and longing clang
of churchbell vesper
song is diminished
and fades,
the able, charmed silence
of twilight descends
to swathe, in its
shadow, half this gently-
tilting planet.
And then—out
come the rats
from the west
to the east,
from their dark wombs
of nests underneath
the parkways
to raze our grand empire
of Day to the street
by reclaiming
all our most thoughtless-
ly tossed
post-dinner bags
of warm trash
as their feast.
